


The Fashion Game

by esteefee



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Crack, Furry, M/M, Mild Kink, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 05:18:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4816511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's really no excuse for this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fashion Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Punk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk/gifts).



> ...because [she asked for it](http://esteefee.dreamwidth.org/202691.html?thread=2675139#cmt2675139).

Sometimes John felt like he was living in the Twilight Zone. Like, he'd slipped through a time warp in the fabric of space or something, except no. This really was his life.

He winced and then pouted as Gustavo stuck another straight pin in him. He hated to break it to him, but this pleather cat-suit-with-wings thing was never going to fly. John didn't care what— _"Sparkle of genius! It struck me as I was in the bath! Get me my pens, pronto!"_ —Franco DeRizzio had felt sizzling under his skin, pleather was not going to make a comeback, ever. Its time had passed. In a New York minute. And that really was for the best, John thought as he squirmed a little, tugging at his crotch.

"Νο. No! Non toccare!" Gustavo said, slapping his hand and then lovingly tugging the pleather back into position. 

And that was another thing—John would never understand how he'd landed himself in a career where people were touching him all the time. In places. Weird, uncomfortable places. Always with the hands. Someone behind him poked him in the ass, pinning something in place with yet another needle, and he about jumped out of his shoes.

"Sì. Sì, bellissimo." Franco DeRizzio patted his ass and then took him by the shoulders and spun him. John frowned hard, but Franco just smiled beatifically, his brown eyes twinkling. 

"So pretty when you are angry, Giovanni. Today, you will be my next new sensation." Franco looked down. "You shaved your chest like I asked? Bene. Come, we go. To the future!" He waved his hand out in a grand gesture, his silvery hair flying about his face as he grabbed John around the shoulders with his other arm and started dragging John to the runway.

This was a nightmare. John tried hard to remember how he'd gotten here, how he'd let this happen. How had it come to this, that after all those fittings he was now trudging up the stairs toward his first runway, dressed as...he looked down. Dressed as some sort of Catwoman with a winged cape? 

Franco swept aside the red velvet curtain, and the bright lights hit John square in the face as he wobbled out on his platform boots. 

Oh, this couldn't be right. He saw blurry faces in the dimness behind the lights. He zoomed in on one in particular, one that was beaming at him with a lopsided grin that was all-too-fucking-familiar for some reason.

"Oh, you motherfucker," John said, sweat dribbling down his back under the cat suit. He pointed a finger and the spotlights all shut off. "I'm Too Sexy" stopped blaring from the loudspeakers. His cat suit then morphed into a black T-shirt and BDU pants. 

McKay stopped laughing and choked on a yelp when John crossed his arms, blinked hard, and put him in a pink pleather princess gown. The diamond pumps made a nice touch, John thought. "Take that, you bastard!"

Rodney looked down and tilted his head. "Not a bad color on me."

"How about a lime green one, then," John said, and stomped down the runway to confront him. He'd forgotten the boots, though, and almost did an endo jumping off the stage. He caught himself with both hands Rodney's shoulders.

"Very smooth," Rodney said. "Those comportment lessons really paid off." 

"You were pulling the strings, weren't you? Gustavo, my ass. What the hell, Rodney?" The skin of Rodney's shoulders felt really warm and distracting, and John was just going to ignore that and take a step back. Rodney grinned cheekily at him, the pink in his cheeks matching his gown and making John want to lay a hot kiss on his smug little mouth. Instead, John thought Rodney into his uniform. 

"What are we doing in a VR, anyway?" John asked.

"You've got to be kidding," Rodney said, his smirk dying an immediate death. "You're not kidding. Don't tell me you...oh, my God." He blinked rapidly, his face twitching. Sometimes, Rodney reminded John of the android from that Star Trek episode; like Rodney's brain couldn't work without his face muscles getting in the action. John only hoped smoke wouldn't start coming out of his ears. _I am not programmed to respond in that area._

But Rodney snapped his fingers. "Your safety protocol. We bypassed it to get your fighter jet in here. I told you there could be repercussions!" He gestured angrily. "Are you telling me during this whole game you didn't remember who you were? You just let me fit you in all those outfits because you really thought you were a fashion model getting ready for the big show?" He looked disappointed, as if John should have gotten off dressing like something straight out of _Zoolander_. 

"Um." John thought hard. "The black jumpsuit was okay?"

Rodney snorted. "That was basically your flight suit in black."

"There were shiny things, and stuff!"

"Those weren't sequins," Rodney protested. "I told you before, Franco just likes a very glossy stitching."

"Franco likes a lot of things," John muttered, and thought hard at his boots, which turned back into combat boots, the laces untied. 

"Admit it—you liked Franco," Rodney said.

"Yeah, he's a real peach. Especially the way he kept stabbing me with pins. And the pleather—what do you say we get out of here before he comes after me with more of that?"

Rodney sighed wistfully. "I had a Thundercats-inspired line coming up next that would have knocked your socks off. Way to ruin the fun, Snarf."

John frowned. That did sound kind of fun. He imagined himself as Lion-O. "Can I have the sword?"

A brilliant smile lit Rodney's face, and he nodded. "Just wait until you see the chest piece I designed." He grabbed John's arm and started dragging him toward the changing area. Rodney turned and added, his ears turning pink, "Of course, it's a good thing you're hairy."

"Good thing," John agreed, smiling.

Behind them, the spotlights snapped back on.

 

...................................  
September 17, 2015  
San Francisco, CA

**Author's Note:**

> [Lion-O](http://thundercats.wikia.com/wiki/Lion-O) of the Thundercats. (Although Panthro was always my favorite. And of course I despised Snarf).
> 
> [The Liar's Paradox](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wlMegqgGORY) from Star Trek - "Logic is a little tweeting bird chirping in a meadow."


End file.
